


Over the Pink Kitty of Softness drink

by Lost_Elf



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (or I think it could be post BL3; I haven't actually finished the game yet XD ), Confident Vaughn, Kinda Confident Timothy Lawrence, M/M, Made For Each Other, Post-Borderlands 3 (Video Game), Pre-Relationship, Trust, Trust Issues, they meet at a bar, yet another rarepair I'm falling for oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: Vaughn goes drinking on Promethea and meets a nice stranger.
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Vaughn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Over the Pink Kitty of Softness drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lemscape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemscape/gifts).



> Are you in rarepair hell like me? Why don't you throw your rarepairs on me and see what sticks, like [LemLem](https://twitter.com/Lemscape) did! Look at me, now I ship it! (:
> 
> Written for Lem and Lem only. Thank you for letting me ramble about Rhyscest! ^.^

“I feel like I’m new to this whole _civilization_ thing. I mean, it’s been...” the short man pauses, taking a deep breath. “Years. I’ve spent literal _years_ on Pandora, where flushing the toilet was a myth and hygiene a bad word... I don’t know how to go back to the corporate world, but... My friend needs me, and I want to be here. Honestly, I’m quite sick of Pandora. But everything here is so... I should shut up, shouldn’t I? You haven’t said a word since you sat there.”

Thankfully, there is a chuckle from the stranger that joined Vaughn at the bar. He can’t see their face, only a black hoodie, pulled tight to hide their face, and a sleeve used to hide their hand.

“It’s alright,” they say hesitantly. “I... don’t like the sound of my voice. Yours is much better, could listen to that for days.” Their whole body tenses up suddenly, realising what they said. “Sorry,” they blurt out. “I spent seven years locked up. I’m also quite new to _the civilization thing_.”

“Your voice is also nice,” Vaughn returns the compliment, scratching his sideburn nervously. “Maybe try speaking with more confidence; mumbling like this doesn’t do it justice.”

The stranger turns their head – or well, their _hood_ away at that, and Vaughn realises his mistake. “Either way, I’d like to listen to it more. You can tell me your story, or whatever part of it you feel like sharing. Or you can make it up; I probably won’t even know, this world is crazy. Hey, what do you drink, huh? My treat.”

The stranger seems to contemplate the offer, gazing forward in silence. Then, they chuckle again. “Something sweet and not very strong. Surprise me.” Vaughn imagines a wink in the shadow of the hood, and he thinks he likes it.

A baby pink drink with a tiny plastic cat decoration lays abandoned next to a warm, stale beer as two strangers get caught up in sharing their stories. The mysterious man introduced himself as Timothy, and his stories were unbelievable and heroic. Vaughn thought that his barbaric stories from the years of being a bandit leader can’t even begin to compare, but Timothy listened closely with genuine interest. He kept toying with a tiny paper umbrella when he spoke and kept his fingers woven together tightly when he listened.

Three hours after they met, the bar began to close, and Vaughn realised that they weren’t really good guests, not ordering anything but the two abandoned drinks. He wanted to repay Moxxi, but she just winked at the stranger and said that this night was on the house. Timothy returned her gesture with a wave of his hand, the sleeve falling low briefly and revealing that it is a cybernetic, Atlas branded.

“Maaan, this is not any official model,” Vaughn noted, his inner nerd perking up. “Who made it? I bet it was Rhys, I know his handiwork... How do you know him?”

He doesn’t get an answer for that as they get up and leave the bar. It’s alright. Vaughn had already learned during their conversation that some questions will be left unanswered and no links will be created between the stranger’s stories, leaving him an air of mysteriousness. The former bandit leader wasn’t one to pry, so he just moved on.

“Where are you staying? Rhys bought me a big apartment not far from his place, and it has two guestrooms, so you don’t have to stay at a hotel if you don’t have your own place here on Promethea. Man, I reaaaaally shouldn’t be sharing this info so easily, right? I keep forgetting that my best bro is now the _CEO_ , which also makes _me_ a target. Damn, I hope you don’t turn out to be an assassin or something...”

The stranger pauses in his steps, laughing openly and merrily. “Oh Vaughn,” he says, and even though it seems a little menacing in the darkness of the Promethean streets, the shorter – _much shorter, dammit!_ – man decides that he likes this man’s laughter and the way he says his name.

“If I was a hitman,” Timothy continues, “you’d be dead a _hundred_ times by now. You aren’t careful _at all_.” There is an undertone of kindness in that, no mockery. “You’re lucky my intentions are good.”

Under his breath, half seriously, Vaughn mumbles: “I wouldn’t mind if your intentions were a little bit filthier...”

Timothy laughs again. “You don’t even know how I look. Or who I really am.”

“I know that you liked the _Pink Kitty of Softness_ drink I got you, and that you’re funny and kind, and that’s all I need,” Vaughn retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides...” he adds, relishing in the way the stranger’s head tilts to the side as he waits for Vaughn’s next words. “I could use a lesson or two in safety and proper public behaviour by a _pro_ like you. If we drink all of the expensive beer Rhys left at my place while we do that, well... Who can judge us?” He wiggles his eyebrows, anticipating another one of those sweet cackles.

No chuckle comes, but Timothy’s posture remains relaxed when he steps closer to Vaughn, his face perfectly hidden in darkness but his head gaining a pinkish halo from one of the neon signs. “You’re serious,” he says after a while of simply staring at the shorter man. Vaughn knows that he was staring because one of Timothy’s eyes glows almost imperceptibly in the darkness. He missed it before, but now he is sure it’s also cybernetic. No wonder the stranger is so careful – if they already lost a hand and an eye to bad decisions, they have the right not to trust Vaughn, as much as it saddens him, because his intentions are just as innocent. (Almost.)

“I am,” he says firmly. “Look, you don’t have to decide now. I mean, we can meet again? I’ll give you my contact info, and we can go to another—” he almost says date, dammit, dammit! “We can have drinks again,” he corrects himself. “This time actually drink them. What do you think?” he asks hopefully, trying to sound sincere and friendly.

“I would love that,” Timothy says. He takes a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering exhale. “But first—” he says, cutting off sharply to take another deep breath. “First I want to show you who I am. To... To make sure you don’t... change your mind.”

Vaughn nods, and the stranger nods too. It takes him many attempts to bring his hands all the way up and take the hoodie off, showing his face to the other man in the light of the streetlights. “My name is Timothy Lawrence, and I was Handsome Jack’s body double.”

What does one even say to that? Vaughn’s mouth hangs open as he vainly searches for the right thing to do. Obviously, Timothy is not Handsome Jack’s loyal puppet. He could say something like _‘welcome to the club of people whose lives were irreparably ruined by Handsome Jack’_ , but that sounds stupid and it would throw shadow over all the other things they have in common. He could say that he still likes him, but this is not the time for that, not yet by far.

In the end, Vaughn doesn’t say anything. He steps forward, keeping his expression friendly, a small and easy smile on his lips. The taller man watches him cautiously as he slowly takes one of the strings of Timothy’s hoodie. “You’ve already told me your name,” he says and tugs at the string, making them both evenly long. “And now I know how you look,” he adds at last, stepping away. “And the offer still stands.”

They both relax, and Timothy smiles. It is a kind smile one would never find on Handsome Jack’s face, and Vaughn really likes it. Getting used to the face won’t be easy, but this is not the craziest thing that has happened in his life.

“Alright then,” Timothy agrees, fishing for a small notepad and a pen in his pocket. He tears the first few pages away and crumples them, shoving them back into his pants, and on the first clean page he finds he writes down his contact info. “Let me know when we can start our safety lessons, Vaughn,” he says as he hands the paper to the shorter man, adding a wink.

He has to supress the pleasant shiver that runs through his body at hearing his name in the stranger’s— no, _Timothy Lawrence’s_ voice, and then he can accept the paper. “I’ll be in touch,” he promises, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Timothy Lawrence.”

As they part ways, Vaughn heading to his apartment building and Timothy back to Moxxi’s, they both smile to themselves, ready to begin new a life.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come chat on Twitter!


End file.
